


"White Out"

by farad



Category: Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: Gen, Kid Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-15
Updated: 2012-09-15
Packaged: 2017-11-14 08:14:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/513166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/farad/pseuds/farad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For Boogie, set in her "Green Day" universe (http://dnf.slashcity.org/viewstory.php?sid=629), the notes for which are here: http://dnf.slashcity.org/viewstory.php?sid=629&chapter=1.  This story picks up toward the end of summer, before the boys are off to Montessori school in September.  It sets up, a little, I hope, a story that Boogie is currently working on.  She has read this story (except for the end) and given it her approval.</p><p>Also for the Daybook Second Bingo prompt "toothache'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"White Out"

**Author's Note:**

  * For [boogieshoes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/boogieshoes/gifts).



> Thanks to Huntersglenn and Nancy for their great help and thoughts. Thanks to Boogie for sharing her plans for her own story and for helping with the structure and ideas here. All mistakes my own. Dr. Will is introduced along with the clarification of this story (which Buck references in the first scene) in "If Wishes Were Horses" by Barbretta Hayden and Pat Merritt, available at the Blackraptor website: http://blackraptor.net/m7fic-13/wishes1.htm .

"Take a breath – no, take a deep breath." Chris' voice was sharp, his command voice. It was a voice Buck had known for years, most of his adult life, such as it was, and it was one he responded to automatically.

But Goddamn did it hurt, the breath stuttering as he tried to draw it in. It brought pain, a pain that rose from his groin, kicking at his intestines, at his stomach, a pain that clawed its way up to his lungs, meeting the incoming air and stopping it. The air wanted out, and so did all the contents of his stomach and his bowels - 

"Breathe, Buck, breathe." 

He did, and it still hurt but slowly, the air pushed the pain back down. His head whirled, though, pounding as if all his blood was also trying to stay ahead of the pain and it had converged in his skull. 

As he drew a third, and then a fourth breath, some of the pounding also eased. His balls, though – instinctively, he reached down, feeling for them with his hand. They were still there, and at the contact, pain jolted through him anew. But it wasn't as strong this time, and he managed to keep breathing.

"Vin," he managed to say, the word coming out in a rasp that was more like a groan than a word. 

"He ran outside," Chris said. His grip on Buck's shoulder relaxed and Buck swayed until he could lean against the couch – but he was able to shift, a sign that he was getting under control. "I'm going out to find him. What the hell happened?" he asked, the command tone back in his voice, biting into Buck's brain. 

Buck tried to sort out the details, tried to remember exactly what had happened, but the answer came from a very small voice behind the couch.

"You scared him," JD said, his voice tiny. "You got him from behind, like the bad men do."

The memory came back then, Vin, standing in the middle of the living room, his attention on the television – it was off now, the remote on the floor in front of it where it had been dropped when someone, probably Chris, had turned it off. The idea had come to Buck as he passed the door, and he had acted on it before he had given it any thought at all. In retrospect, it had been a very bad idea. He knew better than to startle the boys, knew better than to even think about scaring them. But things had been getting so much better over the past months, what with the boys out of school for the summer and the decision to put them in Montessori in September. Dr. Will's sessions with JD and Vin, together and separately, were going well, enough so that Buck had let himself forget.

And this was what it had gotten him – a resounding kick in the nuts that had almost knocked him out, JD hiding behind the sofa and Vin - 

"What bad men?" Chris asked, getting to his feet. His voice wasn't as sharp now, he had moderated it for talking to JD, but it still held the tone of command. He took a breath, almost taking a step forward, but he stopped himself.

Instead, Buck watched him swallow, struggling for patience.

"JD," Chris said, his voice calmer, "which bad men? I need to know so I can talk to Vin."

"Buck?" JD asked, his voice still shaky. "Are you okay?"

"I'm okay," Buck said, managing a small smile. "Vin didn't hurt me much."

"He didn't mean to," JD went on, his words picking up speed. "You can't do that, sneak up on him. He wouldn't have hurt you – you're not going to send him away, are you? He didn't mean to, he didn't - " JD cut off then, gasping for air.

"We're not sending him anywhere," Chris said, still keeping his voice calm though he spoke fast, too. "It's all right, JD, we know he didn't mean to."

"Come here," Buck said, managing to get to his knees with only a little shock of pain. "I need a hug to make me feel better." 

JD didn't stand, but he did crawl to the corner of the couch, looking out. He looked at Chris, and Buck hoped that the grey and yellow sweat suit Chris was wearing was as unthreatening as they thought it would be; it was new, tonight being its inaugural wearing. 

"Come on, Little Bit," Buck encouraged, holding out one arm and balancing against the cushions of the couch with the other. He still couldn't straighten up entirely. 

Chris stepped back, looking toward the door, and Buck knew he was torn between wanting to get to Vin and wanting to hear what JD had to say. Because they both suspected what JD was going to say, it had been hinted at by Vin's actions, by some of the things Vin did, not the least of which was his reaction tonight.

Because Dr. Will suspected that Vin's life of on the street had been as bad as it could get for anyone, and worse when it was a child.

"Vin didn't mean to," JD repeated, looking up at Buck through the fringe of his unruly bangs. His eyes were wide, full of tears, some of which leaked out the corners. "He does that when some body grabs him that way. He told me to do it, too, any time I got grabbed like that. He said only bad men do that, men who want to . . . "

"It's all right," Buck repeated, knee-walking a little closer. "I shouldn't have done it, I just wasn't thinking. It's my fault, not Vin's." 

JD's lower lip trembled, but he pushed himself up to his feet and stared at Buck, wiping at his tears with the back of one hand. He looked like he might burst into tears again.

"It was my fault," Buck said once more, trying to keep more tears at bay, "not Vin's." He was more than ready for the boys to realize that they were safe here. But only time would give them that reassurance, time and events like this, events that created upset and fear, and the continued support he and Chris gave them that they would be able to stay.

Hell, he couldn't get rid of JD now, he thought with a certain amusement. He might not ever be able to father children, not after that kick.

As if sensing his amusement, JD blinked, his trembling subsiding. He took a tentative step forward and Buck curbed the desire to reach for him. "You're still my Buck?" JD asked.

"I'll always be your Buck," Buck said instantly. "Come here."

JD finally did, and in true JD style. He launched himself across the short space between them, right into Buck's open arm and against his chest. It was only the fact that Buck was still bent forward, unable to straighten up completely, that kept his groin from getting another hit. Instead, JD's sock-clad feet smacked into his thighs.

Buck closed his arm around the boy, tried to get both arms, but his body couldn't balance and he rocked from side to side, so he kept one arm on the couch. All the while, JD talked, his words coming faster than Buck's ears could translate them. He heard enough, though, to know that JD was scared, not just of what had happened and the possibility that the boys would be sent away, but also for Vin. 

"Breathe, JD," Buck said after a few seconds, drawing back so he could see the boy's face. When JD did, Buck asked carefully, "You think something happened to Vin, back when – back before you met us?"

JD nodded, but it was slow and unsure. "I ain't s'posed to talk about it," he said, his young face drawing down as he frowned. "Vin said it ain't something I have to worry 'bout – he won't never let nothing like it happen to me."

Buck's stomach knotted, but this time, it wasn't in response to his groin. "What happened to him, Little Bit?" he asked, still keeping his easy as he could. "What doesn't he want to have happen to you?"

JD shrugged, looking down at Buck's chest. "He won't tell me – not really. He says I can't let people I don't know give me things, that when someone wants to give me a treat, they want me to give them something back. I told him I could draw for them or even sing, like those people who play their guitars on the sidewalk at the park, but Vin said that they don't want that, not from me."

The knot in Buck's stomach tightened. "How does Vin know that? Has someone – did someone hurt him?"

JD leaned in close, putting his head on Buck's shoulder, keeping Buck from seeing his eyes. "I don't know. But he told me that anytime somebody grabbed me, like you grabbed him, I was to kick as hard as I could and run away. He trained me – he'd sneak up and grab me sometimes, just like you did to him. He'd get mad if I didn't kick him." JD swallowed then he pulled back, looking at Buck with surprise. "Was it good that he kicked you? Was he s'posed to?"

Buck drew in a breath, which, this time, actually went most of the way into his lungs before the pain kicked in. But the pain was secondary to the look on JD's face, the desperate hope that Vin's reaction was what was expected.

That being this afraid, being conditioned to believe that any touch was a threat, was the way children were supposed to be. 

"Yeah, Little Bit," he said, pulling him in close and holding him tight. "It was good that Vin did that." And if it had been someone other than Buck, it would certainly have been all right.

Sometime in the past, it had been someone other than Buck. That thought was the one that swirled around in his head as he glanced over to find Chris gone.

*&*&*&*&*

Vin had a loose tooth. The beginnings of one, anyway. He had noticed it two nights ago as he tried to go to sleep. He'd been worrying it since, pressing his tongue against it to see how far it moved.

Now, he was pushing at it with his finger, forcing it looser and looser. It hurt. Mrs. Nettie had told him that he should leave them alone, let them get loose at their own speed. But now, pushing at it, forcing it to move, seemed right. 

The pain of it was sharp, driving into his head and running out everything else. Like the memory of being grabbed from behind. The memory of lashing out, kicking back, and the echo of a familiar voice in his head: Buck. 

But it also drove out the other memories, the ones from before. The ones that he had tried to push down, to make go away. Coming here had helped; now he only had them at night, after bad dreams.

Until now, he had thought they would go away, that he would never have to think of that time again. 

Now, though . . . 

The thought of what he had done to Buck clawed at his belly from inside. He had killed Buck – he could tell by the way Buck had cried out, loud and high, the sound reminding Vin of the way his fork sounded when it scraped across his plate. Then Buck had fallen to the floor and JD had screamed.

Vin was already running though. As soon as Buck had let him go, he'd run. 

JD would never forgive him for killing Buck, even if he hadn't meant to. Chris might forgive him, but he'd send Vin away. Chris was a policeman, he'd have to send Vin to jail. He'd killed someone. He'd killed Buck. 

He pushed hard at the tooth them, so hard that the pain of it exploded in his head. He heard a noise, and he thought he might have made it, but the fire in his head took all of his attention, driving out the memories. Driving out the other pain, the one in his heart.

The brightness of the hurt was starting to fade, other thoughts starting to drift back in, when he heard a voice close by, the last voice he wanted to hear right now.

"Vin? It's all right – Buck's all right."

Vin closed his eyes, wondering why Chris was lying to him. He knew Buck was dead. He knew it. 

He pushed at the tooth again, the pain making everything else go away. He hoped it would make Chris' voice go away, make the lie, the hope that came with the lie, go away. But as things started to creep back in, he felt a weight on his shoulders, then a warmth along one side of his body. He smelled Chris, his soap and shampoo, the way he smelled at the end of the day, and he leaned toward it – until he remembered.

"Vin," Chris said, his voice close to Vin's ear. "Look at me."

He didn't want to. He didn't want to see the way Chris would look at him, angry and hurt, the way Chris' eyes would stare at him, full of disappointment.

"Vin," Chris said, his voice stronger, but not loud. "Have I ever lied to you?"

He touched the tip of his tongue to the tooth, thinking to make it all go away again. But Chris' words ran through his head, like a song on tv that wouldn't stop. 

"Vin? You trust me?" 

Vin swallowed, wishing the voice would stop, wishing that it would all go away. He took a deep breath, his tongue resting against his tooth. Before he could push, the arm on his shoulders tightened and he rested his head against Chris' chest. He knew the sound of Chris' heart beat, knew the smell of him, the softness of his worn flannel shirts, the heat of being this close. 

The breath caught in his chest and he choked. He struggled to breathe, struggled to get away from the arm around him even as he reached out and caught Chris around the neck, holding on tight. 

He hated to cry and he tried not to, tried to calm down like Dr. Will had taught him. Deep breaths, but they got caught, choking him, and he thought that if he could talk, if he could say something, the words would make the air coming in do what it was supposed to. 

"Didn't mean to - " he tried to say, but the words caught on his tongue, going back down his throat. He coughed again, tried to spit them out, tried to breathe - 

"I know," Chris said, his hand rubbing against Vin's back. "Buck shouldn't have done that – he knows better. He wasn't thinking, just like you do sometimes, when you run out of the house when you shouldn't, or eat a snack too close to supper. It's all right, Vin. He's okay. He knows you didn't mean to hurt him. He's not angry with you."

He couldn't stop the crying then, no matter how much he wanted to. Buck was alive – that was a relief. Buck was alive and he knew that Vin didn't hate him and hadn't meant to hurt him – that was almost too much to believe.

Chris' arm around him, pulling him in close was worst, though – or the best. Chris holding him close, not hating him, not angry, not telling him he had to go back to the children's home.

It seemed like a long time before he could get air in his lungs and he could make the tears and snot stop leaking out all over Chris. He was tired, so tired, as if trying to breathe and talk and not cry had sucked everything out of him. All he wanted to do was rest here against Chris.

But he knew, as sure as he knew how much it hurt to push against the tooth, that Chris was going to ask questions. Because Chris always did. 

"I didn't mean to," he said, trying to make the words clear. "I didn't know it was him – he just grabbed me, and I didn't think, I just - " He caught the words, stopping them as the image rose in his mind, of big hands holding him down, hurting him, forcing him to be still, forcing him - 

"I know," Chris said softly, his breath blowing across Vin's head and stirring his hair. Some of it moved against his forehead, tickling, but he ignored it as Chris went on. "JD said you taught him how to do the same thing, to fight when someone grabbed you."

The words were out of Vin's mouth before he thought, like they were running away from someone, too. "Men who grab you like that – they ain't playing. If you don't hurt 'em quick and get away, you ain't gonna get another chance. You ain't got time to think, and JD – he's too little. He's got to do something, quick as he can." The idea of it, that something could happen to JD, something that hurt that bad – he felt the knot in his stomach, the fear and the worry. Like it had been before, back in the warehouse. 

Chris seemed to know what he was thinking, though, like he did sometimes. "It was a good thing you did, teaching JD that way. Kept him from getting hurt like you did, didn't it."

It wasn't the words themselves. Vin was ready to agree, but something stopped him. It was the way Chris said it, a sound in his voice. It wasn't the way Chris talked, but it was the way grown-ups sounded when they wanted you to agree with them about something.

He pulled back a little, looking up at Chris' face. He looked tired, and there were lines in his face that Vin didn't like to see. Lines he'd made. 

"I didn't mean to hurt Buck," he said, swallowing. 

Chris looked down at him and his face changed. The lines didn't go away, but he didn't look as angry. "I know. So does Buck. You did the right thing, Vin. If it had been someone else, anyone you didn't know . . . Well, you know about that, don't you." He looked so sad, as if he knew something bad was going to happen or had happened – but he said Buck was all right. What could be so bad?

There were only a few things Vin could think of that could be that bad, and if Buck was all right - "I didn't let nothing happen to JD," he said. "It didn't – nothing like that ever happened to you, did it?" He couldn't quite think of it, the idea that someone could do that to Chris, could ever hurt him, ever sneak up on him and – the fear caught him in the stomach, again, trying to claw its way out. He pressed against the tooth, wanting this thought to go away, to go so far away that it couldn't ever come back.

Everything went away as the pain exploded in his head. He couldn't think of Chris or Buck or JD or anything, couldn't think of the times he had been hurt or the way it had made him feel. Couldn't think of being so hungry or so cold that he could let himself be hurt that way for the money or food he could get.

"Vin?" Chris' voice was sharp, bringing Vin back to the memories, to the worry. His tongue was against his tooth, still, and he almost pushed again. But there were hands on his shoulders, and they pressed tight, shaking him a little. "You're bleeding – what did you do?" Something touched the corner of his mouth, a tickle at first then stronger. 

He hadn't known he'd closed his eyes until he blinked them open. Something tickled at the corners of them too, and he thought he might be crying again. 

"Let me see," Chris said, wiping at Vin's chin. "What did you – did Buck hit you - "

"Loose tooth," Vin mumbled. He lifted a hand to wipe at it himself, but Chris caught it and pushed it away. 

"Let's get you inside and make sure that's all." He stared at Vin, and Vin saw something else he didn't like, something he didn't ever want to see again: fear.

Chris was scared. Well, Vin could understand that. He'd been scared too, just tonight. Scared all the time he'd been in that warehouse, scared for JD, scared for himself. Being here, he'd started to forget – and he couldn't do that.

The best thing to do about being scared was to push it down, to ignore it. Or to drive it out. He nodded once, knowing that Chris needed to forget whatever he was scared of. Especially if it was the same thing that Vin was scared of. "Yeah," he said. "It ain't nothing, but we better be sure."

Chris' hand tightened on him, pulling him close, and Vin let him. He reached up and put his arms around Chris' neck, hoping that he could find a way to make Chris forget, too. 

*&*&*&*&*

Buck sat down gingerly, the seat of the kitchen chair harder than he'd remembered, even with the thick cushion in it. He was going to ache for a while, several days at least. No way was he sitting in the saddle tomorrow, and he hoped that the weather man's seventy-percent prediction of rain turned into a hundred percent before morning. It was going to be hard, especially after tonight, to explain to either of the boys that the trail ride was off.

He took a long sip of bourbon, letting it burn down his throat and into his belly. He'd raided the liquor cabinet, something that was more Chris' habit than his, and the bottle sat on the table in front of him. He'd brought two glasses though, knowing that Chris would need it as much as he did. 

Buck had killed his first glass and was pouring another finger into his glass when he heard Chris trudge down the hall. He filled the other man's glass and had it ready when Chris dropped into the chair across from him. He still wore the same sweats from earlier, though the shirt was streaked dark in places from tears, and Chris' hair stood out as if he had pulled it – which he probably had. 

"To Dr. Will," Buck said softly, lifting his glass. "I'm guessing he was right again?"

Chris closed his eyes, and Buck looked at his friend, seeing the familiar lines and wrinkles that came when Chris was worried – very worried. Most of the time, they involved Ezra and a missed check-in, or a bust that was too precariously dependent on another team. 

He hadn't seen Chris look like this about Vin since the night, months before, when they were trying to figure out what was wrong with JD. 

Chris drank the entire contents of the glass down, hardly stopping to swallow. Buck sipped his own slowly, wishing he could do anything to help his friend. To help Vin. The very idea that someone had done that to a child . . . . 

"Makes me want to find the son of a bitch and throttle him with my bare hands," Chris said as he put the glass back down on the table. He was very careful, the glass barely making a sound as it connected with the wood of the table, and his knuckles were white from the pressure he was exerting. It was a wonder the glass didn't break.

Buck nodded his agreement, thinking of the relief that would bring them both. But there were more important issues to consider. "Guess you need to talk to Dr. Will. If this is on Vin's mind now, he might talk about it."

Chris sighed but nodded. He stared at the glass he still clutched. "The first time I met Dr. Will, he played an interview of Vin, where he'd been trying to talk to him about what happened after he left the shelter. Vin got angry enough to turn a table over."

Buck winced, thinking of how much effort that must have taken. How much anger. His balls drew up a little, reminding him of the anger he'd already experienced. "He's got a right to that anger," he said, shifting in his chair. "Be better, though, if he could figure out what it is and why before he gets caught up in it at the wrong time." At school, where he could hurt someone. At home where he could hurt JD.

Chris took his hand off the glass, his fingers curling naturally into a fist. "Yeah," he agreed, his voice low and soft. "Guess that probably goes for all of us, huh."

"Ain't gonna be easy," Buck agreed. "But then, nothing with these boys is, is it." He leaned forward and picked up the bottle, pouring a little more into Chris' glass. "Reckon at least one of them is going to wake up in a while, need some company."

Chris looked up at him, the question clear enough without words. 

Buck pushed the glass toward his friend then held up his own in a toast. "Here's to another sleepless night. At least it will keep us out of the saddle tomorrow. That boy of yours has one hell of a kick."

Chris stared for a few seconds more, then the corners of his lips twitched. He opened his hand slowly and closed it deliberately around the glass before lifting it to touch Buck's. "That was one of the stupidest things you've ever done," he said.

Buck grinned. "Figure it's time to start a new 'top ten stupid Buck tricks," he said before sipping. After he swallowed, he continued, "Give the boys something to compare their own stupid tricks to."

Chris shook his head, but he drank, too. After a while he said, "We'll get through this."

Buck nodded. "Yes, we will. Hell, we have to. Ain't like I'm ever having kids of my own, not after today."

Chris snorted, then, slowly, he started to laugh.


End file.
